Spelling Freedom
by OnceUponAMadameMayor
Summary: A lovely princess. A wicked villain kidnapping said princess. It's quite standard fare in the Enchanted Forest. Insert Regina, the woman who works as a scribe at the palace and looks like benevolent Queen Snow. When Regina is mistaken for the actual princess Emma - and is taken captive by the Pirate-King Hook, things go awry...And what happens when Regina finds she's not alone?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: As much as it would be nice, I do not own the rights to Once Upon A Time or any of its related stuff. I do own any OCs that pop up, but with luck there won't be any OCs that pop up. I also do not own any of the Tangled references.**

**This is extremely AU. Basically, Regina's family is still in the mill-industry, but Cora made Regina learn to read and write so that she could become a scribe and elevate her and (more importantly) their family's status. Snow and Charming currently rule the Enchanted Forest. Emma is the same age as she is in Tallahassee, and Regina is the same age as she is in The Stable Boy (so they're both roughly 17/18).**

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_Don't forget it, you'll regret it, Mother knows best._

~O~

"Regina, this is ridiculous. You've been staring at that mirror for half an hour already."

Regina turned to face her mother, reluctantly tearing herself away from the dirty hand mirror.

"Today is Princess Emma's official introduction to the royal court," she explained. "I have to look presentable."

Regina's mother scoffed from her seat at the worn wooden table.

"You're not going to be one of the people that everyone looks at," Cora said. "You're just a scribe. You're not important in the long run."

"I know, Mother," Regina sighed, with a hint of irritation surfacing in her tone. She turned back to the mirror and began twisting a strand of long dark hair. Should she tuck it all away in a braid or let it stay loose and wavy? "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't look my best."

Cora huffed.

"I had such high hopes when you were accepted to be a scribe at the palace," the scribe's mother bemoaned. "You were supposed to become the princess's closest confidant, be always at her side, be seen in the public eye."

Regina did not turn away from the mirror. This rant was much too common for Regina to be fazed.

"I refuse to become friends with Princess Emma. She's rude and inapropriate and I'm embarrassed to be near her."

Cora laughed.

"You don't have to be friends with her, Regina, friends means getting personally involved. Friends means loving someone like a sister or a brother. And love-"

"Is weakness, Mother, I know," Regina recited, setting the mirror down on the table. "You tell me that every day."

Cora lifted her chin, her narrow eyes watching her petite daughter drift around the small cottage.

"Dear, I just want what's best for you."

Regina paused in the middle of braiding back her hair, successfully losing the neat continuity of a braid done in one shot.

"No you don't," she said, hurriedly combing her fingers through the now loose and messy braid, letting it fall and hang naturally. "You just want what's best for you."

Before Regina could move another muscle, she felt a terrible lurching sensation, as if she were wobbling at the edge of a very high precipice. And then she was hanging upside down in the air, her arms pinned to her sides and her face slowly turning red.

"Mother! Stop it!" Regina protested, wriggling like a fish out of water. "Let me down! You know I don't like it when you use magic!"

Cora frowned at her daughter, pursing her thin lips as she watched her daughter dangle like a worm on an invisible fisher's line.

"And I don't like insolence. Everything I do is in your best interest. I want you to be a winner, the best."

"And I want to be myself!" Regina argued, her face the color of a ripe tomato as she flailed around, upside down, her long hair trailing through the dirt that made up the floor.

When Cora next spoke, her voice rang steely and cold, like a sharpened sword.

"You don't know what you want," the older woman alleged, each word clear and precise.

"But Mother -"

If Regina was going to protest, it was cut off by a choked gurgle as Cora waved her hand twice in a corkscrew motion. Within moments, Regina's upended form had started to rotate like a chicken being roasted over a fire, at a nauseating speed.

"No, no, please...I'll be good," the young woman pleaded.

Cora sighed.

"Just remember dear, mother always knows best."

Another lurching sensation ran through her, and suddenly Regina crashed to the ground painfully, landing on her hands and knees. With both ego and palms smarting, and both pride and knees bruised, Regina got to her feet, brushing herself off as best as she could.

"You're going to be late if you keep on wasting time," Cora drawled as she sat back down at the table. Regina knew this, but still chanced one more glance into the mirror; she recoiled at the sight of the disheveled, messy haired, dirt smudged girl staring back at her.

Without another word, she dashed away, through the door of the cottage and out of the hawk eyed sight of her mother, the bane of her existence. Down the little sloping hill, into the woods Regina ran, following the worn carriage path that lead to the palace. All roads inevitably would lead there one way or another, but this one was particularly quick. That suited Regina just fine; as tears burned in her eyes she thanked whatever higher power existed that the castle was so close. Such an easy escape, away from her mother.

She had considered running away many times before, and as a little girl she had attempted once or twice even after Cora had terrified the living daylights out of her about the monsters and cannibals and villains that lurked in the shadows. And true to form, Regina had always come running back to her mother, who always welcomed her back with a smug 'I told you so'.

The capital with the castle always exuded pure opportunity. A place to start anew, take the late night carriage going anywhere and everywhere. But Regina knew this was only for the people with the ability to do whatever they wished. Free birds, wings spread.

Regina had wings, but they were clipped. She would never be allowed to fly free. Freedom, Regina realized as she slowed to a walk through the vibrant green woodland, was just a fairy tale.

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**So what do you think? What did/didn't you like? Tell me in a review; feedback is the fairy dust that keeps my writing thriving!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I love each and every person who followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. I really love you all. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Once Upon a Time. I do own any OCs that pop up. I do own the name of the castle-village of Halcyon. I do not own the song "What Is This Feeling" from Wicked. I do not own any quotes from the Princess Diaries.**

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_Loathing. Unadulterated loathing. For your face, your voice, your clothing, lets just say: I loathe it all._

~O~

By the time the magnificent clock tower in the castle-village of Halcyon had signaled the ninth hour of the morning, Regina was absolutely positive her day had already written itself a miserable ending. She was most certainly late, at least by her mother's standards. It had been pounded into Regina that at all times, that one must always be early. According to Regina's mother, being early made you look better, and if you looked better, people were more likely to notice you.

Of course, Regina thought as she peeked into the reflection of a puddle, if you looked like you had just finished fighting somebody in a patch of mud, people were most _definitely_ going to notice you. Just not in the way that you want to be noticed.

The castle was located directly in the center of the castle village of Halcyon, and for that, Regina was supremely frustrated. She had been the scribe for the Princess Emma for no less than four years - since Regina was fourteen and the princess was thirteen - and yet Regina still could never find her way to the castle easily. It was much easier when the streets weren't crowded, Regina thought irritably as she wove through the thickening crowd of people just going about their day to day business.

Lost in her self-pitiful thoughts about how it was her mother's fault that she was late, and if Princess Emma noted her absence there was sure to be a commotion, Regina didn't realize it when she missed a step going down. Her stomach lurching, she stumbled back, attempting to avoid the painful (albeit short) tumble. Luck was not with the young scribe woman today, for stumbling backwards only sent her careening backwards into a particularly thick, runny, sticky mud puddle.

The cool brown sludge seeped through the roughspun cotton kirtle, leaving a dark stain or two on the otherwise light blue fabric. Regina could feel the mud begin to stick to her already dark hair and already dirtied face, and had to bite her lip hard to resist an anger induced crying fit. As of late she seemed especially prone to those, and she refused to have one in public. There were too many people to impress. With as much dignity as she could muster, Regina picked herself up from the puddle, wrung out her dress, and continued walking - at a much slower pace - with all the poise of a true flesh and blood princess.

~O~

"Aww, Regina, what happened?"

Regina's jaw tensed.

"Nothing happened," she replied with as much politeness as she could muster - which wasn't a large amount after the tedious activities of the morning. "I just tripped, that is all...Your Highness."

The tall blonde princess looked at her for a moment with an expression of consternation, concern, and barely-there amusement. Regina wanted to punch her in her pretty blonde-framed, green eyed face and laugh as she fell back onto the silvery grey cobblestones of the palace courtyard.

"At least let me, um...lend you clothes or something," Princess Emma finally said, putting her hands on her hips. Regina considered the princess for a moment.

Regina didn't know just why she hated Princess Emma so much - she was a perfectly friendly girl. Regina was a few months older, but somehow the princess had ended up a good few inches taller than her - without the fancy heels that Regina was sure she would break her neck on if she ever tried them on. Princess Emma had that long golden curly princess hair that made Regina just want to take a pair of rusty shears and butcher it so that it could never look pretty in comparison, and a pair of bright green eyes that always made Regina look down at the ground, ashamed of her own cinnamon colored eyes.

Regina supposed that the root of her hatred had something to do with the fact that Princess Emma got was allowed to do whatever she wanted, and DID so. Regina knew the standard princess tales, where the princesses were always enforced to partake in tedious lessons and sessions for useless skills like walking with poise and playing the violin. But not Princess Emma. Princess Emma, to the best of Regina's unfortunately extensive knowledge on her, spent her time hitting other people with swords or something, and gallivanting off into the sunset with a horse, something Regina had always been particularly jealous of.

"I can get by," Regina said shortly, deciding that accepting charity from the princess - no matter how much she would have loved to get out of the sticky, "Your Highness. I wouldn't want to hinder you at all on your...special day."

Princess Emma grinned easily.

"You won't make me late, 'Gina," she countered, not noticing when Regina's eyes flashed in pure viciousness. Nobody EVER called her Gina. Not anymore. And Regina was perfectly okay with having it stay just that way.

"A queen is never late," another soft female voice said, "Everyone else is just early."

Regina bit her lip as both she and the princess turned to face the speaker. Someone she hated even more- if that was possible - than Princess Emma.

The beautiful Queen Snow smiled kindly at the two young women, her perpetually friendly gaze lingering equally on both the tall, fair haired, impeccable princess, and the petite, brunette, mud splattered scribe. Regina's fists clenched - this is what she hated about Queen Snow; her equality. Regina KNEW that a scribe did not deserve nor get as much attention as the princess, that was how it was supposed to be, that was how it should be. But yet Queen Snow seemed to make it a point to treat everyone the same. It made Regina both want to tear out the queen's hair - dark as night, closer to Regina's own hair than Princess Emma's - and then make sure the queen was getting along alright, make sure she was always happy.

Of the two conflicting emotions, hate always won out.

Because love WAS weakness, and Regina refused to be weak.

"Regina, you are welcome to anything we have here," the queen declared graciously, her entire petite form radiating with warmth and benevolence. It flustered Regina. Welcome to ANYTHING? Regina didn't believe that. She did believe that by 'anything', the queen meant 'go borrow some clothes from one of the maids'.

"Oh, are you going to come to the ball thing tonight?" Princess Emma asked, fidgeting as she swished the skirts of the rather gaudy green dress she had on. Regina wondered if Princess Emma had any other friends to talk to, because most princesses would never talk to a scribe in such a casual manner. It unnerved the young scribe, who had had it imposed on her that scribes were lesser to princesses.

"Emma, it isn't a ball THING," Queen Snow reprimanded lightly. "It is your eighteenth birthday, the day you're presented to court. This is the day that your subjects see you, their future queen, for the very first time."

Regina couldn't help smiling slightly. For all of the idiotic customs in the kingdom, Regina thought that the eighteenth birthday ritual was the most idiotic of them all. It was something of an old custom that had been put into action during the first Ogre war, when everyone was running around sieging villages and stealing princesses. The royals didn't want to lose their princesses at all, especially during such a desperate time when new queens and princesses might be needed in the spur of the moment to take the place of a dead royal or to forge an alliance. So instead of presenting their noble daughters to the world as soon as they were born, royals began to hide their children away, for only servants and family to see. For how likely was it that an evil villain could capture the real princess if he didn't even know what she looked like until it was too late and she was old enough to rule? Regina thought it was a stupid tradition; how would the people know who to believe in?

But it wasn't like she could do anything about it. She was, as she painfully reminded herself for the upteenth time today, just a lowly scribe. She hadn't worked hard enough to be able to do anything about it.

"Yeah, whatever," Princess Emma dismissed. "Are you coming, Regina?"

Both royal gazes, one pair luminous green and one pair light hazel, fell expectantly on Regina, waiting for an answer to the 'beloved' princess's question. Regina froze for a moment like a deer that had wandered into the sudden torchlight of a hunting party, and then began shaking her head dramatically, her slightly muddy hair sticking to her face in places.

"Oh, no, I couldn't, your Majesties," she hurriedly explained, "I'm just a scribe. I don't have the means to go, I don't have the proper attire -"

Regina could see Princess Emma's face fall in disappointment, and she knew the queen could see it too.

"I would be a disgrace to you and your family if I showed up in my best, although I would love to attend it just isn't-"

"Mother, please can she go? She can borrow one of my dresses," Princess Emma burst, pleading. "Please?"

Regina could see the conflicting in the queen's face, and almost laughed at the clear thoughts battling on the queen's countenance: let the scribe go to the royal ball, or let your daughter be lonely? The choice was almost amusing to watch.

"Yes, she can go as your guest," Queen Snow finally caved. Princess Emma's smile became almost blindingly brilliant.

"Really?" she exclaimed. She surged forward and took her mother's hands. "Thank you Mother, thank you thank you thank you!"

Regina approached more slowly, respectfully. Because as a scribe, she had to show respect.

"Thank you, your Majesty," she said. "You are too kind. How can I ever repay you?"

The queen smiled.

"By enjoying yourself. You work very hard, Regina, my daughter speaks very highly of you. I think you deserve this."

With that, the lovely queen swept away, off to attend to her own business looking like a true queen in her sparkling red gown. Princess Emma turned excitedly to her scribe.

"Come on, Regina, we're going to clean you up! Today isn't a day for writing letters and speeches and notes! Today's a day for celebrating, or whatever! This is gonna be fun!"

Regina nodded and smiled. Internally, she cheered triumphantly.

Her mother had been right. That queen Snow never could resist taking pity on the less fortunate. She would be proud of her daughter tonight.

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So we have met Emma and Snow, along with Regina and Cora. Who could possibly be next? What could possibly happen? What is this strange sort-of-friendship between Regina and Emma? Find out next update, which should be around Friday or Saturday if all goes well. Reviews are the fairy dust that keeps my writing alive!

If you want to chat me up on tumblr, I'm onceuponakatie. I'm still getting the hang of it, so forgive me if I'm not good at it. You can also PM me if you want, I don't bite. Hard. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh, well would you look at that? I updated two days ahead of schedule. Cool. I'm super excited for the next chapter as well, so expect that soon.**

**Disclaimer: I did have a dream about it last night, but no, I don't own Once Upon a Time. I don't own Metallica's "Trapped Under The Ice" either.**

**ALERT: Important Author Note (IAN) at the end of the chapter!**

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_I don't know how to live through this hell, woken up, I'm still locked in this shell, frozen soul, frozen down to the core, break the ice, I can't take anymore._

~O~

"Your Highness," Regina tried to protest. "Pardon me if I am overstepping, but I don't think it would be appropriate if the scribe upstaged the princess."

Princess Emma threw a confused glance at Regina, who stood in the middle of Princess Emma's bedchambers with her arms crossed irritably across her chest.

"This is my eighteenth birthday. This is a giant ball. That dress -" Emma pointed to the monstrous yellow beehive of a gown that Regina had currently been wrestled into - "is going to be the least conspicuous thing, like, ever."

Regina quirked a brow. She had known Princess Emma for almost five years. She didn't like the girl, but that didn't mean she knew nothing about her. And this - picking out dresses that looked more like freak mutants of nature, and acting so feminine - it wasn't the princess's style, not by a long shot.

Yes, even as Regina watched the princess now, she could see quite plainly how Princess Emma's gaze kept drifting towards the windows, where the polished and buffed silver courtyard gleamed prospectively, where the long grasses of the pasture rippled flirtatiously, enticingly, where the sky glimmered bright blue and never ended, like an adventure. That was where the Princess really wanted to be, outside, doing something productive, running, jumping, leaping, climbing. Anything but dealing with fashion.

Regina hated her even more for it.

Did this stupid Princess Emma even know what she had? She had luxury, comfort, two parents who both loved her, and by the look in the princess's peridot eyes, she would throw it all away just for a chance to go on an adventure. Adventures were highly overrated, in Regina's opinion.

"It's not so great out there," Regina said, not being able to resist the knowing smirk that no doubt spread to her face when Princess Emma jerked her head towards Regina in surprise, her eyes wide. "Past the walls, outside the palace. It's not as great as you think it is."

Princess Emma at least had the grace to look guilty, her gaze dropping to the dress she had lackadaisically clutched in her hands, her perfectly manicured hands that made Regina want to break something - preferably a hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of distracted -"

Regina cut her off with an authoritative wave of her hand. The boldness of the motion made her question just how much time she was willing to spend in the castle dungeons - Princess Emma was known within the palace as one with a very volatile temperament. But Princess Emma's eyes stayed trained on Regina, the scribe in the borrowed yellow beehive, attentive as if Regina were a teacher or another form of higher authority.

Now this, Regina could get used to.

"Out there, it's a wasteland," Regina said bluntly, savagely enjoying the tiny flinch the princess made at her dream shattering words. "There might be nice green grass here, Your Highness -"

"Emma. Call me Emma," the princess interrupted, her gaze hardening ever so slightly. Regina ignored this; she was too riled up.

"There might be nice weather here, there might be lovely days where just being outside for a moment makes you want to give up everything you've got here, there might be monsters out there just waiting for you to slay them. Adventures are all well and good for the first twenty minutes, Your Highness. But then when you start wondering where your next meal is coming from, where you're going to sleep, whether you'll survive the first night - no more fun."

Princess Emma looked rather disgruntled at such reprimands. She seemed, however, to get Regina's message. Nevertheless, the princess still had to argue. Regina wondered if the princess ever took anything at face value. A sword, maybe. A sword to the face of Princess Emma...that sounded nice, Regina mused. Then she internally slapped herself, a flush burning her cheeks. What would Mother say if she heard such vile things from her own daughter?! Regina didn't REALLY want to hurt anyone, did she? No, no, this was simply her way of coping with severe dislike of a person.

"But I want to be out there anyway!" Princess Emma retorted, any veneer of happy fashionista princess thrown right out the window. Regina noted with some amusement how Princess Emma's right hand automatically went to her hip, where Regina guessed she had some sort of knife or sword stashed in her bodice or under her skirt. It wouldn't have surprised Regina.

"You don't understand what it's like!" the princess shouted, her hands slicing and cutting and flying through the air violently as she spoke, flustered, pacing back and forth. Regina resisted the urge to laugh. If Regina had known it was so easy to set Princess Emma off, then she would have done it years ago.

"They're all expecting me to completely win everyone over! Make everyone believe that I'm a force to be reckoned with, that when I'm queen, nobody should dare challenge me, and how I'll be so kind and generous while dominating that no one will WANT to challenge me! It's just not possible! How can somebody be strong and intimidating and loved all at the same time?"

Regina's thoughts automatically went to her mother, who was for certain all of those things. _She would make a good queen_, Regina mused. _Not Princess Emma. And not Queen Snow. If my mother was queen, I'd be a princess. Then I'd get to live like this and never want for anything, and Princess Emma could do whatever the hell she wanted to do._

"I'm not some...savior! I'm not going to be that person, I can just tell, and I'm going to disappoint my parents and the rest of the kingdom! I'd rather be...I don't know, out there, killing things, saving people from burning villages, meeting different kinds of people, going to different places outside these walls! I'm terrible at all of this princess stuff, dresses and politics and parties. I'm a disappointment, and I can't take it anymore!" Princess Emma ranted, tossing the dress still clutched in her hand to the side and running her hands through her golden curls, the pretty hair Regina had always dreamed of having. Subconsciously, Regina reached up and began twisting a strand of her own dark hair, a wavy mess that no decent princess would ever have. She stayed quiet, sensing that interrupting would most definitely not be in her best interest. True to form, the frustrated princess stopped her pacing, took a few deep breaths, and then turned towards Regina, who was by now dreadfully uncomfortable in the gaudy, much-too-flouncy honey colored dress.

"I'm sorry for freaking out. Nobody should have to see that," Princess Emma apologized, her cheeks flaring bright red in embarrassment.

"Your Highness-"

"Emma!" the Princess exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "My name is Emma! Everyone sounds like a bunch of snakes, saying 'Your Highness' all of the time. You had to witness that little meltdown, I think you've earned the 'privilege' -" here the princess emphasized the word, so that the sarcasm was clear, "- of using my actual name."

Regina, despite the intense hatred she still harbored for the princess, couldn't help the human reaction of a little smile at the friendly gesture. A thought entered Regina's mind unbidden, unlinked to anything.

Would it hurt to hate Prin- no, she had to drop the title now - Emma just a little less?

No, this was a topic for another time. Now the distraught princess was looking at her, waiting with widened eyes and a grimace, waiting for an answer.

"Emma," Regina said, her tone surprisingly gentle, "Emma, everyone has their moments. I have known you for almost five years. You won't be a disappointment. You are very smart, and you handle situations quite well, better than their Majesties could at some moments. You will make a great Queen."

The words tasted terrible on Regina's tongue, and each compliment - the levels of truth varying; Emma had at some points handled situations better than Queen Snow and Prince James could have, but the princess wasn't very book smart and when pressed could barely write her full name - added an extra knot to her stomach.

"You really think so?" Emma asked, her voice almost childlike. Regina could barely make herself nod.

"Yes, I do."

Emma then grinned, and for one fleeting moment, Regina really could see Emma as a queen, with renewed confidence and a warm smile.

"Thank you, Regina," the princess said, her tone quiet. Then she perked up. "I owe you one. Who cares if you upstage me tonight? Tonight isn't going to be my night now. I want tonight to be your night!"

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**And the Swan Queen sort-of-one-sided friendship fluff commences!**

**Important Author Note: My friend Kasey and I have started an OUAT roleplay forum, if any of you lovely readers are interested. It is entitled "Once Upon A Forum", and the administrator is DoYouKnowWhatStarsAre?**

**Author Note Over. **

**Reviews are the fairy dust that keeps my writing alive!**

** forum/Once-Upon-A-Forum/139307/#**


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